Paradise Lost
by aomori
Summary: Disconnected SakixAkira drabbles. Different timelines, some fluff.
1. Chapter 1

Osugi invites her out on a Sunday evening, and she twists her fingers in her hair. She says yes because Osugi is (just) her friend, and she hasn't seen him in a long time. Or maybe she says yes because it's been seven years already and he's probably not coming back anytime soon and she has to at least try not to care. She pushes this thought to the very deepest part of her mind.

It's a nice date, and Osugi holds her hand gently, and he laughs, and she smiles, and they eat dumplings. It's not his fault, it really isn't, but when they walk past the carousel that's been placed in the park, she freezes. There's a white horse, just like the one they had ridden on, an age ago when his chest had been pressed to her back and through her jacket she could feel his warmth. She doesn't realize that she's crying until a flustered Osugi hands her a tissue and drags her to a bench.

"Saki? Saki, I'm sorry. I didn't -" She shushes him with a shake of her head, because she is tired of making people apologize to her and she is tired of being so weak. "...You must miss him a lot," Osugi says quietly. She chokes back a sob because it's been seven years, because she shouldn't be waiting anymore, because she really really really misses him.


	2. Chapter 2

Saki's hand is warm in his, and as they walk through the streets, stars twinkling overhead and breaths fogging in the cold air, he thinks that this is right.

He kisses her goodnight in front of her apartment, a light brush of his lips against hers, and that's all he plans to do. He'll move slowly, he wants to do this right. They've only just reunited, and now they've got all the time they would ever need stretched out before them. What he doesn't anticipate though, is the jolt of what has to be electricity down his spine when they touch, and that Saki winds her arms around his neck and pulls him close before he can protest.

Shortly thereafter, somewhere between the door and the bed, pulling off Saki's skirt and fumbling with his shirt buttons, Takiwaza comes to the conclusion that maybe they didn't have to take it slow after all.

In the morning she half expects to wake up in an empty bed, but there's a warm body pressed to her side, arms curled around her, and a head against her shoulder. "Good morning," he says, looking up at her through the hair in his eyes. He smiles. "Did you sleep well?" For now she can only nod, because this is one scene that she has never imagined before. The shock and sheer happiness make it hard to do much more than grin dumbly.

"Good, then," he shifts, adjusting an arm and taking her hand. He turns his face into her skin and she raises their hands, marveling at their fingers intertwined and the fact that five years have passed since she last saw him, and now he is real and solid and warm and most importantly, here. "Akira?" The name still feels odd on her lips, but she'll get used to it. "Mmmm," he grunts, nuzzling his face against her neck. The gesture is new and pleasant, and Saki tightens her grip on the hand that she is holding.

"Are you going to leave again?" He pauses, pulls himself up to rest on his elbow and look down at her. "No," he says. Then, "do you trust me?" She doesn't hesitate. "Yes."


	3. Chapter 3

Five years is a long time to wait for someone.

She remembers kissing him, even after five years she can still recall the sensation of his lips against hers. She remembers holding his face in her hands, hoping that he would understand all the things she couldn't put into words and tell him (not yet). She didn't have the time to tell him right then and there. She remembers that he doesn't quite kiss her back.

"Promise," she says, "promise me you'll come back." And then he grins and says sure and presses his phone into her hands. She remembers his fingers lingering for just a moment longer on her skin. And then he turns and she wants to say "I trust you" but he is running and running and then he is gone.


	4. Chapter 4

On the plane back to Japan he asks to see the phone again. She gives it to him and he turns it over in his hands, studying it, like maybe the plastic will tell him what, who he's supposed to be. Like maybe it will tell him everything he needs to know and fill in the gaps in his memory. It doesn't. There are no phone numbers, no texts, and what the hell is a Seleção anyway? (he gets the odd feeling of déjà vu, but it passes)

After ten minutes the only thing he can find is the photo Saki showed him on the street. He studies it carefully, and yes, yes this is definitely her and him. She's blushing and she looks a little surprised and he's got his arm looped around her and then something in his chest twinges, just a little bit. "Did I love you?" he asks, sliding the phone into his pocket. She hums, rests her chin in her palm and turns to look out the tiny window at her side. "I think so." And he catches it then: the tiniest hint of a smile, a little upturning at the corner of her mouth, sad and hopeful and shy all at once. His chest clenches again.

Later, when he reaches for her hand she lets him hold it. Her skin is warm, and when he grins at her, she smiles back. A proper smile this time, a happy one.


	5. Chapter 5

"So what do we do now Taki- ah," she catches herself mid-sentence and fidgets. This is not the same Takizawa as before, she reminds herself. This is not the same person who she met naked at the front of the white house, who dragged her through streets and cities with a grin, who kissed her through her tears, who- "I mean, Iinuma?" He considers the name for a moment, glances towards her, then at the ceiling. "I guess it's ok to call me Takizawa. That's who I'm supposed to be, right?" He places his suit jacket on the coat rack and turns to smile at her. He always smiled so easily.


	6. Chapter 6

Did promises have expiry dates? It is three years, two months, and eight days since Saki has seen Takizawa. She knows because she kept track, after all this time, still. In three years Japan has changed, just a little bit. You wouldn't see it if you didn't look closely, but the changes are there. She wonders how Takizawa must feel, to work so hard for so many, to be betrayed, ignored, unappreciated. Maybe he doesn't care. She wonders if he cares enough to come back.

So she doesn't expect it when someone falls into step with her late one night, coffee cans clinking in one hand, breath floating in the cold air.  
"Still wearing the ring, huh?" And she recognizes this voice, she would recognize it anywhere. Even after three years, she knows it's him. "Takizawa?" He grins, and suddenly her throat is tight and she can't see very clearly because maybe its the tears -tears? A strong arm catches her as she wobbles, and for the first time, she sees his face.

Except for the new lines that ghost around his eyes and across his forehead, he's just like she's remembered, eyes bright, smiling, and when she runs her fingers across his jaw, that too, feels exactly the same. He moves back, probably just to give her space, but she throws her arms around his neck anyways, squeezes tight, because no, she is not letting him go so easily this time. She feels his chest rumble when he laughs, hears his muffled "missed you" with her face pressed into his shoulder.

They sit together like that for a while, and he pats her back, kisses her hair. When he pulls away a second time, she lets go of him, reluctantly. But she's blushing now, her face red, and she realizes that she's just flung herself at a man she hasn't seen in three years, who's never said (at least plainly) that he loves her. Yet.  
"Let's go home." And he holds her hand all the way to wherever it is they're going and Saki thinks that maybe he was saying it all along, every time his fingers brushed against hers.


End file.
